


Cover Me

by Maggiemaye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All The Tropes, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sharing a Bed, Undercover Missions, Werewolves, vaguely OotP timeframe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: Remus and Tonks embark on a mission that tests their well-established partnership to its limits. Even while surrounded by Death Eaters hidden in plain sight, they find that their greatest threats may come from within.





	Cover Me

If he had been given the choice, Remus never would have picked the Lark and Lacewing for their lodging. The name suggested a delicate atmosphere that had his skin crawling when he’d first heard it. But the place had turned out to be a modest, remote inn with a bit of a Hog’s Head sensibility about it (though the Lark and Lacewing was, admittedly, much cleaner than Aberforth’s establishment.) Remus was glad of this; he expected never to be comfortable with excess or finery. And he was in good company with his partner, who never seemed aware of her surroundings beyond checking for Death Eaters.

He was seated at the bar despite the early hour, sipping at a cup of orange juice and waiting for Nymphadora to come down from the honeymoon suite. He chuckled to himself; here was a position he never would have imagined himself in. If he’d ever been asked to describe the person Nymphadora Tonks would marry, he would have come up with someone just as cool and leather-clad as she. Someone as different from himself as possible. But evidently they were a believable pairing to some; no one had questioned them upon checking in, and the hostess threw sickly-sweet glances at them whenever she had a chance.

Remus could hear Tonks’ boots clomping down the stairs before she actually came into view. He swallowed a smile before looking up. She was wearing a deep green dress with impractically thin straps (his throat tightened before he could stop it) over a pair of pale green tights, topped with spiky hair in a shade of fuschia he had not yet seen. Her giant yellow cardigan was draped over her arm; some of its fluff had begun to stick to the front of her dress.

“Morning, love,” she chirped as she drew close to him. He didn’t return the endearment, but he did reach out to gently touch the ends of her hair.

“Fetching,” he said by way of reply, gesturing at her ensemble.

“You like it? I was afraid I looked like a weed.”

Remus had to smile; the outfit did rather give the effect that she might blow away were it not for the gigantic black boots holding her down.

“The loveliest of weeds,” he said, brushing a kiss just above her eyebrow. He could feel her fingers flex against his side; when they pulled apart, she was blushing.

“I’ll just...go and give back our keys.” Tonks flashed him a brilliant smile before flouncing away, though she didn’t quite make it through the turn without stumbling on her own boot. Remus averted his eyes when she looked back at him, as if she hoped he hadn’t seen. As if she was still smitten enough to want to impress him.

She really was, thought Remus, a phenomenal actress.

The role of blushing bride was one he would not have pegged her for, but then again he had to remember that Tonks was a spy by trade. Considering her day job, this mission for the Order had likely been child’s play for her. Remus had been a little chagrined when Moody had first given them the assignment: pose as newlyweds in order to surveil the Lark and Lacewing, which was suspected to be a hotbed of Death Eater recruitment. They had found a few leads, but nothing that Remus suspected would be of much value in the long run. But at least, he thought before he could chide himself for it, they had gotten to spend an entire weekend together without having to entertain Sirius. And at least the suite had been large enough that he’d been able to sleep on the sofa while Tonks took the bed; one awkward conversation avoided.

Remus had done the pretend husband routine before, in another Order, another life. He and Dorcas Meadowes had played these parts with similar amusement and ease, traipsing around Britain on Mad-Eye’s orders. They had been young then, and at the beginning it had still been an adventure to them. All too soon, though, the darkness had fallen hard. News of murders began to come every day, Dorcas eventually ending up among them.

And now Remus was getting a sad sense of deja vu; back in the Order, traipsing around Britain again as the fake husband of a young spy. Except now the young spy was significantly _younger_ than he. Sometimes he had the feeling of watching Tonks from a great distance, hoping that the darkness need never fall on her.

She finished talking with the hostess and turned back to face Remus. Her steps bounced as she moved toward him; she genuinely appeared as if she would rather be nowhere else than at his side. Tonks took her role as a convincing “wife” quite seriously, it seemed.

“All done,” she said brightly, stepping near enough that her bare arm brushed his sweater. Remus looked down at the pale expanse of her shoulders.

“Moody wants our report at ten,” she went on under her breath, leaning even closer. “But I don’t think I have to go into the office today, Kingsley told everyone he sent me on a case. Hey!” Her voice suddenly went to full volume, and Remus blinked.

“We’ll go and walk Snuffles when we get back! He’d love some fresh air. And you know he misses us.”

“Maybe. You know Snuffles isn’t supposed to do much walking at the moment.” He grinned as he took the yellow sweater from her arms and gestured to help her into it. Tonks twisted around to give him a knowing smirk as she put her arms through the sleeves.

“You’ve played this part well,” he murmured under his breath, close to her ear. She tipped her head back briefly, closing her eyes as if lost to sensation.

“The part of being madly in love with you?” She spoke softly as well, but there was a tease in her tone. “Who says I’m acting?”  
  
She winked at him—she was the only person Remus knew who could pull off a wink without looking utterly stupid—before turning to walk out the door. He didn’t follow her right away. His face was burning, heat racing over his skin; for the moment he was unable to maintain even a semblance of cool. Suddenly, he longed for nothing more than to close his bedroom door behind him at Grimmauld Place.

Tonks had been making these sorts of comments for the past three days, and he wished that she wouldn’t. They were friends for the same reason that they were mission partners; from their first meeting, they had enjoyed a sense of balance in their approaches to most situations. The two of them had found a nice equilibrium, in Remus’ opinion. Why she would want to stomp all over that was beyond him.

The worst of it was that whenever she flirted with him, he had the irrepressible urge to flirt back. Sometimes now he even found himself doing it first. He barely even knew _how_ to flirt, having gone out of his way for years to avoid such situations. And yet he seemed to manage it well enough with Tonks.

Remus remembered kissing her forehead a few minutes before (just for show, he told himself), and wondered if her blush really had been a skillful morph, as he had assumed. He wondered, not for the first time, what Tonks expected of him.

He was glad to be leaving the Lark and Lacewing behind. He sensed some recovery time in his near future—although recovery, in this case, probably meant chain smoking, solitude, and mental gymnastics for a day or so. All of which would be followed by the wolf in three days’ time.

Shaking this depressing prospect from his mind, Remus caught up with Tonks outside. She was rooted to the spot, staring intently at the forest’s edge.

“What—"

Remus cut himself off immediately upon seeing what she was looking at. It wasn’t quite as striking in the daylight, but the silvery lynx Patronus still caught his eye.

They ventured toward it without a word, Tonks at Remus’ back. She was watching for bystanders, ready to Obliviate if necessary. He did not need to direct her to do this, nor did she need to explain what she was doing. They were in familiar territory now.

Kingsley’s voice delivered a simple message from the lynx’s mouth.

“Go inside. Wait for me.”

Remus and Tonks looked at each other, sharing in the knowledge that this could mean nothing good.

“Somehow,” she said in a bone-dry voice, “I don’t think Snuffles will be getting his walk any time soon.”


End file.
